Nostalgia
by The More Loving One
Summary: It had been six years since they had disbanded. It had been six years since everything, and at the same time nothing at all, had come together to tear apart the Utonium family. It had been six years since the world's three favorite girls had gone their separate ways and grown into their own people. But one can only wonder where they are now, and what will become of them.
1. Prologue

"And once again, the day is saved! Thanks to… The Powerpuff Girls!" The Narrator's crackly voice filtered through the powerful speakers next to the television. In the darkness of the room, a quiet sob could be heard, which was quickly muffled. A girl wiped her face, then leaned forward, turning off the TV. She stood and shuffled to the bathroom, looking up into the mirror. She hated herself for crying over the same damn footage every year. It was stupid and cheesy, and it didn't even show one of their better fights. It was just a generic monster attack, no mention of any of the villains who actually mattered, like the Rowdyruff Boys or Mojo… Or the one in the room opposite her. She sighed, pushing her hair out of her face.

"I need a haircut," she said, trying to distract herself. She let out a miserable laugh as it fell right back into her face. She wiped her eyes hastily. She hated crying. She always had. And she'd never let anyone see her do it as long as she lived. She cleaned her face up, then started applying makeup. It was ten o'clock and she needed a pick-me-up. What better way to get it than to go drink and get laid? She smirked at herself in the mirror, but it was an empty gesture, without the least bit of depth to it. She shook her head, then turned and stormed out. She paused at her roommate's door, listening to his deep, even breathing. Then she smiled and headed out. There was no time for nostalgia when you filled your nights with sin.

* * *

"And once again, the day is saved! Thanks to… The Powerpuff Girls!"

Across town, another young woman smiled at the screen, changing her yoga pose. The disbanding of the Powerpuff Girls was something that she hoped the townspeople would mourn for a long time. She didn't know how she would make it through the year without the sight of her sisters, smiling with her, as they defeated a monster. This one broadcast, every year on November 4th from 9-10, saved her life. It was the only thing that kept her going as the family dinners became strained, then tense, then full on hostile as they pushed food around their plates, until they finally stopped happening at all. It was the only thing that kept her going through the Professor's heartbroken calls, asking if she would please come home only to be answered with the same excuse- she was too busy with the gallery and couldn't take time off. She couldn't go to their family home. The memories would break her. And her spirit was the only thing keeping her alive.

She shifted position again, then sighed and finished for the night. She slipped out of the studio apartment she lived in and headed out into the night. It was ten o'clock and she needed to clear her head. Fresh air was the only thing that would help her. She hurried into the night, the chill doing nothing to her superhuman body. She decided to jog, since she was still wearing her yoga clothes. The wind rushing past her body felt nice. There was no time for nostalgia when you filled your nights with positive energy.

* * *

"And once again, the day is saved! Thanks to… The Powerpuff Girls!"

"The Powerpuff Girls…" the last sister scoffed to herself. Her lips twisted into a scowl and she kicked it, hard, shattering it like glass in one fluid motion. She screamed, an animalistic sound of rage that set her girlfriend's teeth on edge, even though she just watched, impassive to the other girl's tantrum. Suddenly the rampaging sister stopped.

"How was that?" she asked. Her girlfriend shrugged.

"It was okay. I wish you wouldn't have taken it out on the TV. Daddys' had to buy us four already," she frowned.

"You're the one who said you wanted me to get my anger out, Princess! 'Use it for good,' you said." The last puff scowled, crossing her arms. Princess cringed.

"Yeah, but not on our expensive electronics that daddy keeps replacing so I don't have to live in _squalor_." Princess frowned.

"Keep talking and I'll show you squalor." She scowled and clenched her fists. Princess huffed at her, and stalked outside, playing on her phone. The last puff watched her go, her eyes trained squarely on the other girl's ass. And then she picked up the TV, flying it outside, then joined Princess on the rusty fire escape.

"Be honest with me. Do you think I have a chance at that audition?" she asked. Princess studied her, then nodded.

"As long as you don't smash the director's TV too," Princess said, then went back to texting. The last puff smiled.

It was ten o'clock and she needed to rest for her big day. She slipped inside and tucked herself into bed. There was no time for nostalgia when you filled your nights with your rage.


	2. Chapter 1

Bubbles groaned, rubbing her head.

"What happened last night?" she asked dazedly, leaning over the toilet. As she sat, another wave of nausea washed over her, and she retched, puking up the remnants of last night's partying.

"I don't knoooow, but whatever it was, it was loud…" HIM purred teasingly, holding her hair behind her head.

"Oh God, did you at least see who it was before they left?" she asked. HIM nodded, grinning.

"Why, I believe it just so _happened_ to be Ace."

"Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Jesus. Now he's going to think he can just call me up and get laid whenever he wants and it's not like I can tell him I'm not that kind of girl when I hooked up with him last night. Fuck."

"You know dearest, there's no point in lying to yourself." HIM smiled at her, but when he spoke next, his voice was low and dark, and his eyes flared. "You _are_ that type of girl. And if you don't want to be known as a slut, then don't act like one." His demeanor lightened again.

"The usual hangover cure is on the kitchen table, with your breakfast smoothie. Now you best shower and run along, little Bubbles. From what I hear, you're in for a big surprise at work today." HIM sauntered out of the bathroom. Bubbles scowled.

"For your information, I'm not as classy as a regular slut!" she shouted. She heard him laughing on the other side of their simple, modern apartment. She looked in the mirror and frowned at herself. "A regular slut at least doesn't sleep with her sister's ex-boyfriend. No matter how much of a bitch that sister was," she said quietly to her reflection.

With what little energy she had, she dragged herself into the shower. The hot water helped relieve her pounding headache, and it worked some of the tension out of her muscles. By the time she was finished, she still looked like shit, but not nearly as much. She pulled her hair back into its customary braid, having outgrown her pigtails long ago, and applied a little makeup. She lacked HIM's steady hand, but HIM wouldn't help her this morning. He hated it when she drank or smoked or anything else. He said it was unbecoming. You'd think a demon would encourage your vices, but no. When he was with her, he was "off the clock" and he lectured her worse than even the Professor would if he knew what she was doing.

She sighed. He could at least not punish her when her body already was. Maybe a day afterwards, but not on her hangover days. She gelled her bangs and stray hairs into place, not willing to deal with them this morning in any more intricate fashion. Then she slunk into the kitchen. HIM was humming to himself, flicking through their bills and the usual fan mail that came for Bubbles, usually begging her to return to crime-fighting. (Not that there was any need for her to. The police were actually capable of their jobs, and most of the super powered villains had given up their lives of crime for other pursuits.)

"Oh dear… This one is rather vulgar… Electric bill… Another fanfiction, your fans are much more creative now…"

"Just burn everything except the bills, Christ," Bubbles groaned. On the table was a water bottle filled with a smoothie and smoking red shot glass. She cringed, picking up the shot glass and downing the smoking red potion inside. It burned her mouth but set her body to freezing and it tasted like monster goo. She didn't even want to think about what it actually was. As soon as she forced herself to swallow, she took a gigantic gulp of her smoothie.

"There are clothes in your room. If I may, wear just a t-shirt and jeans today. You need to cover all the marks after all."

"Marks?" Bubbles asked confusedly, then HIM gestured to her back.

"Scratches and the like. I glamoured the hickies on your neck, but everywhere else is fair game," he smirked. Bubbles groaned again, slipping out of the kitchen to get dressed. When she came back, she grabbed her smoothie and headed for the door.

"HIM… Thank you," she said, shooting him a small smile as she left. HIM didn't answer her, staring intently at one of the letters, only looking up when the door closed behind her.

* * *

"Blossom! Mail's here!" Princess's voice grated on Blossom's nerve this morning, but she still came out and gave her girlfriend a kiss, looking out the kitchen window over the alley below. She took the letters from Princess, then skimmed through them quickly.

"Your dad's covered the bills and monthly expenses. He sent us a letter trying to get us to move to that penthouse he had built for you," Blossom said, pushing her bangs back. Princess smiled.

"We could, you know. Why don't you let daddy help you? The entertainment industry is all about connections, and Daddy could have you in the next summer blockbuster with just a snap of his wallet."

"I want to EARN my place in the world, Princess. I've told you before. I had enough handed to me when I was a Powerpuff Girl. I want to know that what I have is on my own merit. That's why I wear the colored contacts and use a different name during auditions. I want to get what I want by working for it." She looked into Princess's eyes, frowning. Princess sighed.

"I understand. But at the very least we could move into the penthouse. It would show directors and agents that you have other options. If you play a little hard to get they'll want you more." She hugged Blossom tightly, kissing her shoulder softly. "I love you. And I'm proud of you."

"Thanks." Blossom held Princess for a moment, then kissed her lips softly. "Okay, I'm off to my audition. Want me to pick you up from the office later for lunch?"

"Um, that'd be great. I don't know yet, I'll have to check my appointments for the day, but I'll let you know."

"Okay. See you later then." She gave Princess one last kiss, then the two went outside and turned two different ways, each heading off to work. Blossom flicked through the rest of the mail, which was mostly junk. She threw it in a trash can along the way, then paused. There was one more letter, which was different from the others. The envelope felt like old-fashioned parchment, soft and thick, but dry and crackly at the same time. Her name was written on it in a calligraphic script, and there was a wax seal with a picture of a flower on it. If Blossom wasn't mistaken, it was a cherry blossom.

She tucked it in her pocket to look at later. She was too busy now. She had some casting directors to wow.

* * *

"Okay, Buttercup, you can head out now." Her boss tapped on the security office door. Buttercup smiled.

"Alright. Thanks. Can I have the night shift from not on though? I hate art and people keep trying to talk to me about it and I'm running out of excuses," Buttercup laughed. Her boss nodded, running his hand through his hair.

"You got it BC. Head out now and go do something fun," he said. She nodded.

"Okay, see you later." She slipped outside, practically running into a blonde girl with big blue eyes. Her heart panged as she realized who it was.

"Um… Hey, Bubbs- Bubbles," she said, rubbing her arm awkwardly. Bubbles looked awful. There were dark circles under her eyes and she was the slightest bit underweight. Buttercup fought the urge to reach out to her. Bubbles didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Hi," she said, then walked around her. Her hair, usually so beautiful, had lost its golden shine. Buttercup watched her go, then sighed. She wasn't wearing running clothes, but she started running to the gym she attended religiously. By the time she got there, her hair was just slightly damp. It wasn't enough. She stormed in, not angrily but forcefully, as was her way. She started her usual routine, not stopping until her hair was plastered to her head and her whole body was practically dripping. Then she cooled down with yoga, and ran the rest of the way to her apartment.

She didn't fly anymore. She'd learned her lesson after the first time someone had spotted her lime-green trail and tried to talk to her about her sisters. She ran instead, making almost as good a time, since she used her powers for it. It had all the benefits of flying without the drawbacks.

In her apartment, she went straight into the shower, ignoring everything else. Including the man on her couch. She didn't come out until every inch of her had been scrubbed clean and all the sweat had been scoured out of her hair. And when she did get out, still she didn't speak to the man. She started flicking through her mail, setting aside her bills and a weird letter on some sort of fancy stationery.

"Buttercup," the man said impatiently. Buttercup sighed.

"Whaddya want, Butch?" she asked. They'd broken off their friendship a month prior because he'd had sex with Bubbles and she was disgusted with him. How could her best friend have a one night stand with her own sister? It was wrong on so many levels that she had stopped speaking to him. But here he was, on her couch, just like he'd always been.

"I just wanted you to know that Bubbles is getting worse. She hooked up with Ace last night. I figured you of all people should know, since you were closest to her, before HIM."

"Don't even fucking talk to me about HIM," Buttercup snapped. "And I don't care who Bubbles sleeps with. She's not my problem anymore. Get out of my house, Butch. I don't want you here. If you're so concerned, you talk to her. But I swear to God, if either you or your brothers put your hands on her, _again_ in your case, you won't make it to your next birthday. Do you understand?" She stared him down, her fists clenched. Butch watched her for a minute, then crossed over to the door.

"Okay. But stop kidding yourself, Buttercup. You seem the most well-adjusted, but you're taking the split the worst. You care about your sisters still, no matter how heartless you want to seem. Goodbye." He stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. Buttercup picked up the letter and broke the seal, pulling the paper out of its envelope. Her irate green eyes flicked through it quickly, then she froze. Her heart raced and she slowly read through it again. With a shaky hand, she dropped it.

"No… It can't be real, it can't…" She buried her face in her hands, groaning weakly. A tear slowly slid down her cheek and she stood, reaching for the phone.


End file.
